I just want to offer a very quick post to make sure that I honor the 'good' kids. It was 8.40am and the phone rings. I pick up and give a cheery "hello" thinking that it is far too late for the relief teachers agency to be calling and so I could just relax.
"Such and such a school here, could you please come in as a teacher has had to be sent home with a stomach virus".
Please note that 1. I did not know this school (never been there). 2. I was in my P.J's and 3. My resources where in the garage. The class was a year 2/3. "Great!" I thought. The only resources I had handy were for upper primary.
"Sure', I said.
My mind was not cooperating with my fluttering stomach.
So, a very quick shower, a disorderly rummage through some boxes - grabbing this and that - and some deep breathes and off I went.
I've just realized I said it was going to be a very quick post. Whoops!
I Jump in the car and at the legal speed go looking for the school.
Couldn't find the school - it was tucked in some silly little dead end street with workmen blocking half of the view.
At 9.30am I arrive. Was escorted to the class and I was off and running.
No time for nerves. No time for Valium.
No need!!!
These were well mannered, beautifully cooperative young children who blessed me enormously. One girl even made me some Jasmin perfume from her perfume kit during play time. One girl made me a thank you note and one boy claimed I was the best relief teacher he had ever had (notice how he gave me a compliment without dishonoring his own teacher).
No chairs flying across the room. No swearing. No slamming of doors. No looking at the clock and praying for 3pm to arrive.
Don't get me wrong - they were not perfect. But they were good kids who restored (in part) my faith in the new generation and education.
I think I might remain a teacher after all.
And thank you Lord. To you be the honor and Glory.
It may be small. It may not have an engine. It may only be a replica (notice the ruler?).
